One Dream: Voyage 7
Past Voyage Voyage 7: Ancient History 1:17 - end. Please open in a new tab or window. Chris (impressed): WOOOAAAH~!! This place is amazing~!! Quetzal (flattered and grinning): Think so, huh? Chris: I know so!! To think your boss could buy something so big and awesome!! Before Chris knew it, he was lead into a large tavern, albeit it seemed somewhat more... extravagant. Not only was it larger than normal bars, but it also seemed decorated and well lit, making it more like a private residence than a public bar. While there was indeed a bar and chairs to enjoy drinks and chat with fellow patrons, including tables scattered across the room and even a stage for what must have been live performances before Spike's Soldiers took over, there were also sofas, a rug, and various luxuries here and there. The room was filled with people, all having a good time with each other. The whole atmosphere of the tavern seemed lively and festive; all of which Chris hadn't expected. Maya: Don't be stupid, kid. He didn't buy anything here. Remember what we said earlier? All of this is our property now. We simply took over what used to be the biggest bar in the grove and redecorated it to fit our needs. Chris: Still cool though!! Maya: Someone's obviously easily amused. Quetzal: Ah, let him enjoy the experience, Maya. It's not often we get visitors who're so enthusiastic about us. Maya: HE'S NOT A VISITOR, HE'S A TRESPASSER! THERE'S A DIFFERENCE! ???: Now I know that screeching anywhere... As Chris began to wander off in an aimless direction to continue exploring and gawking at this new location, a large, bulky man rose from one of the tables nearby. As he reached his maximum height, he appeared to practically tower over the other gangsters surrounding him. His low voice caught Maya and Quetzal's attention right away. Quetzal: Boris! I wasn't expecting you so soon! Maya: That's because he's usually hung over by now. Boris: And like you're one to talk? Lemme guess, you had your 30th serving of beer a while ago, didn't you? Maya: Shut your ugly, narcoleptic face, Boris!! Or better yet, hide it! It scares small children! Boris (cupping a hand to his ear): Huh? What was that? I can't hear small shrimps like you from way down there. Maya: That's because you're a freak of nature!! No one should normally be as tall as you! Quetzal sighed as he watched his fellow gang members quarrel with each other. Quetzal (shaking his head): You two are never going to change. Maya: Don't lump me in with the likes of him! I was just trying to deal with our little trespasser here until this big oaf interrupted us. Boris: "Trespasser"...? Quetzal: Oh yeah. Seems we have an unexpected visit-er, I mean "trespasser." Quetzal motioned his thumb to indicate who this trespasser may be to Boris, but when Boris went to get a look at him, there was no one there. Boris: ...Is this a prank or something? Both Quetzal and Maya looked off to where they last saw Chris. Like Boris, they didn't see anyone there. Quetzal (sweatdrop forms on his head): He isn't very patient, is he? Maya (annoyed): WHERE THE HELL DID HE RUN OFF TO?!! Boris (pointing): Maybe you're imaginary trespasser's over there with the others? Boris was indicating the large bar nearby, where some gang members were gathering. One in particular had an iconic marking on the back of his shirt. Beginning - 1:54. Please open in a new tab or window. Barkeep: C'mon, one won't kill you! You're our guest, so why not have a drink while you're here? Chris (frustrated): Look! I'm telling you I don't drink! Just give me something sweet, like cola or juice. Blonde woman: Aww, how cute. Chris: Huh? Brown haired woman: Yeah, he's like a little kid. I hope I can have a son like him one day. Chris: Hey, hold on. I'm not a little kid. I'm a grown man. Blonde woman (teasingly): Suuure you are. Brown haired woman: Hey, bartender. Get this "man" some milk. My treat. Chris: STOP TREATING ME LIKE A BABY! Black haired young man: Hahahaha! Take it easy, fella! Blonde woman: Yeah, we're just having a little fun with you. No big deal. The bartender then placed a full glass of cold milk on the bar in front of Chris, with a big grin on his face. He was obviously becoming very amused by all this. Chris however... Barkeep: Here ya go. A whole serving of milk for the big strong man here. Chris (greatly annoyed): CUT IT OUT!! The other patrons began laughing at Chris as they surrounded him, much to his embarassment. Green haired man (smirking): If you wanna prove yourself, then why not take the damn alchohol? Chris had his arms folded and his eyes closed as he sat indignantly in his seat. Chris (annoyed tone): Because it'll make me pass out. The others paused as they took in Chris' somewhat unusual answer. Eventually though, they broke out in laughter once more. Green haired man: THE GUY CAN'T HOLD HIS LIQUOR!! HAHAHAHAHAHA!! Chris retaliated by trying to set the facts straight, even if said 'facts' were his own perception of things. Chris: THAT'S NOT IT AT ALL!! The others started to calm down somewhat, in order to allow Chris to speak his mind. After all, the young man seemed to be a fountain of entertainment for them. Chris (serious tone): For some weird reason, whenever I take even the smallest sip, I fall asleep. I think I'm being attacked by ninjas. There was a brief pause, where everyone went silent. And then as usual, the crowd exploded into laughter again. Chris: DO YOU GUYS JUST LAUGH AT ANYTHING?!! The others were too busy reeling from their laughter to answer Chris. He took the chance to notice that even if it was at his own expense, he was still making everyone smile and laugh. Chris' displeased frown quickly gave way to a proud smirk of satisfaction. Dwelling on what he perceived to actually be an accomplishment, he accepted the tall glass of milk and began to gulp it down. Once finished and wiping away the leftover 'milk moustache' on his lip with his forearm, Chris looked over at the stage in the far off corner of the room. He grinned as an idea entered his head. Chris: Well, if you guys thought that was funny, then you haven't seen anything yet! Just give me a minute, OK? Chris rushed to get out of his seat and head for the stage, as if it were calling him there. The patrons looked at him with confusion. What was this silly, strange young man planning to do? Barkeep: He's certainly an odd one, that kid. Blonde woman (smirking): I hope the boss recruits him when he gets back. I'd love to have that kid with us more often. Black haired young man (smiling): Yeah, he's a blast. As Chris began to jog his way for the stage, a hand reached out to grab him. Maya: THERE YOU ARE!! With a quick tug, Maya pulled Chris back towards her. Chris: No, wait!! I have something funny planned! Maya: Shut it!! Chris was forcibly turned around, so as to face Maya, Quetzal and Boris. Quetzal: This is the guy we were talking about, Boris. Boris: This little squirt was the one who flew into ya? Man, how embarassing! Quetzal: Please don't rub it in... Chris (thoughts): Man, he's tall... Maya: What were you thinking?!! You're here with us so that we can wait for the boss to return and decide on your punishment for invading our grove! Not to play comedian!! Chris (innocently): Can't we do both? Maya (frustrated): NO! Now wait!! Chris (dissapointed, and muttering): Killjoy... Maya: WHAT WAS THAT?!! Chris: Nothing, nothing... With that settled, Chris and the various members of Spike's Soldiers settled themselves in for the last few minutes as they awaited the return of the Street Punk. While the Spike's Soldiers members were killing time at their own casual, relaxed pace, Chris sat at one of the tables, with his chin resting lazily on the table's surface, obviously feeling bored. Sitting with him were Maya, Quetzal and Boris, as they watched him carefully, in case he ran off again. Hoping for something fun to happen, Chris began thinking of a multitude of different subjects to talk about. The only thing on his mind however, was the Street Punk, given he had heard quite a bit about him and had wanted to meet him ever since. Chris: So, what's this guy like? Quetzal: Huh? What do you mean? Chris: Your boss. This 'Street Punk' guy. Is he really worth all this waiting? Boris finished gulping down a cup of ale and placed his wooden cup on the table. Boris: Damn straight he is. He means a lot to us. Chris: How come? Maya: As we pointed out earlier, he gave a lot of us a purpose in life, even if it's not a very good one. Without the boss, who knows where we would've all ended up? But instead, because of him, we're all like one big happy family. Chris' thoughts began to wander in the midst of his conversation. He remembered the allure of a life of piracy when he was back home, and just what it must have felt like to be surrounded by so many people that could be called your friends, or even your own family. Hearing Maya describe the gang as such felt nostalgic to Chris, and seemed to ease his boredom somewhat. His thoughts would soon be disrupted by- Quetzal: On top of that, he's saved a lot of us from slavery, since the slave trading business is more active here than in any other part of the world. I should know... Chris: Oh, cool! Boris: Plus, he's super strong. He may not be quite as big as me, but I've never won a fight against him yet. Chris' eyes widened as he heard more about this legendary Street Punk. Chris (amazed): Wow... I'm guessing a guy as strong as him must've started the whole gang himself, right? Both Maya and Boris smirked, implying they knew something Chris didn't. Chris raised an eyebrow, indicating his curiousity. Chris: What? What're you guys smiling about? Boris: In all fairness, you're only half right. Maya shot Boris a puzzled look. Maya: What exactly are you doing? It's not like he needs to know this, you know. Boris: Just because you have a hard time letting your petty grudges go doesn't mean we all have to be as aloof as you, Maya. Maya: Cram it, you drunkard. In a hypocritical fashion, Maya turned to her cup of ale for relaxation. Chris: C'mon, tell me. Why am I half right? Boris: Well, Maya probably doesn't want me saying this, but I can't see the harm in showing some hospitality. Even to an invader like you. Maya grunted as her brows began to twitch. The cup never once left her lips at the time. Boris: You see, the boss was the one who decided on starting up our little family, but he wasn't the only one responsible for getting everything started. Chris: Huh...? Boris: Maya, myself and another member of our family were the ones who helped our boss start up Spike's Soldiers. Together, the four of us became the founding members, but since the boss was the one who came up with the idea, and was intent on leading it no matter, we agreed he'd be our boss. Quetzal (impressed): Wow, I had no idea. I never would've assumed you guys helped the boss create our gang! Maya: That's because we shouldn't go around bragging like that. Especially around dolts like this guy. Chris, clueless to the fact Maya was addressing him, started looking around the tavern in the hopes to find this elusive "dolt." Chris: Huh? "Dolt"? Where? Boris and Quetzal (thoughts): She seriously needs to let that go. Boris: Anyway... That should explain all of your- Chris, now having given up on his search for the "dolt," had returned to the discussion at hand. And before Boris could even finish his sentence, Chris sprang forth a new thought that entered his mind. Chris: So you guys knew your boss before starting your gang? Boris: ...Questions. Maya (sighing): Yes. We've known him for a long time. Happy now? Chris: How long? ???: Long enough, I'd say. Breaking up the festivities and Chris' mini-interrogation came a deep, manly voice that spread out from the entrance. Everyone looked towards the figure, who appeared to be standing besides another person on a floating bubble. The gangsters seemed happy and satisfied at the man's arrival, given the smiles and grins on their faces. Chris continued to stare onward in bewilderment. Red haired young man: Boss!! Hey! Blue haired woman: Welcome back boss! Beginning to end. Please open in a new tab or window. Chris' jaw fell and his eyes widened. The long awaited Street Punk had finally made his grand debut. Not wasting a second, the Street Punk casually strolled into his tavern with a red haired mermaid trailing him closely. Street Punk (unamused): Sharing stories of the past, are we? Maya: What?! No! No no no no! This isn't what it looks like! Street Punk: And to a newcomer I've never seen in my grove before too. Have you been changing the policies of my gang while I was away, Maya? Maya rose out of her seat in a hurry. Her temper was getting the better of her. Maya: Just let me explain, damn it! The Street Punk gazed at his underling with a lazy, indifferent look in his eye. This stare seemed to be enough to shock Maya into calming down almost instantly. Maya: Oh, u-um... S-Sorry boss. I... Uh... The Street Punk, still showing no signs of investment in the situation at all, immediately continued his walk through the tavern. He calmly passed by Maya, as if she weren't even there. Street Punk: I've had a rough day, OK? I just got Pearl back and I shook down some idiot pirate. The Street Punk lazily tossed a sack of money on to one of the tables he passed. Chris' eyes traced him as he seemed to be heading for the back of the tavern. Street Punk: I'm gonna go have a chat. Meso, you can deal with the goofy looking kid. Somewhere within the mass of people stood a thin man, who appeared to be minding his own business for the most part. Meso: Understood. Take it easy there boss. Street Punk: Will do. And as suddenly as he appeared, the Street Punk brushed aside a silky red veil hanging over a doorway and stepped through the corridor. His subordinates steadily began to return to doing whatever it was they were up to before their boss arrived, and the silence was finally ended. Chris: So that was the Street Punk...? Quetzal (smiling): Yep. That's our cool, calm, dependable boss. You can probably see why we respect him so much. He isn't just strong and kind, but he's practically a born leader. The way he handled that situation just now was nothing special, but he always seems to impress me with that level-headed attitude of his. Boris: Looks like he was in one of his moods though. He rarely gives anyone that kind of look unless he's upset. Chris: So wait, who's he chatting with then? Stepping into the conversation and answering for the trio appeared to be Meso. He was less rigid in tone and behavior than his boss was, but he still kept the same serious attitude as him. Meso: That's on a need to know basis, I'm afraid. For now, how about someone inform me of who this guy is and what he's doing here? Quetzal (hesitantly): Well, you see... As Quetzal, and inevitably Maya and Boris began to explain to Meso the circumstances of what was going on with Chris, the Street Punk began to make himself comfortable in an outdoor alcove of sorts. Nestled between the spacious tavern and the roots of a mangrove tree appeared to be a secluded space. Hanging on the mangrove and over the roots was a large flag, displaying a red blazing sun on an orange field. Resting upon the roots themselves appeared to be a picture frame, containing a photo depicting a large fish-like human posing with a small, blonde boy. The two of them seemed rather comfortable with each other, and quite content and happy. The Street Punk rested on his knees first, but then began to relax himself until he was sitting comfortably on the grass and dirt below. His stoicism which he had displayed earlier slowly began to be replaced with a warm smile. He stared longingly at the picture in front of him. Street Punk: ...Been a while since we had a man to man talk, huh? I should apologize for that. I know it isn't much of an excuse, but I've been awfully busy lately. On the plus side, I'm getting closer to finally starting that dream of mine. So don't go acting like I've given up on our promise, OK? The Street Punk's smile soon faded into indifference once again, as his thought drifted elsewhere. Street Punk: The reason I came to talk is, well, I had to save one of my underlings from the Human Auctioning House today. I think you'd like her. She's a red headed mermaid with a green tail. Her name's Pearl. She's OK now, since I went on one hell of a rampage. Heh... But it's just... A scowl began to emerge on his face as his thoughts intensified. Street Punk: I ran into one of those World Noble bastards along the way. He said he was going to buy Pearl, and began talking about her like she wasn't even a person. ... Urgh...!! He even called her a fish! Can you believe that?! After baring his feelings to whoever it was he was talking to, the Street Punk attempted to calm down. Street Punk: Not much hasn't changed since back then, I guess. So you can see why I felt like I needed to come and see you, pops. He closed his eyes once he felt he had said his peace. As he drifted further and further into his thoughts, the Street Punk started to recall certain events that had affected him in the past. Street Punk (thoughts): I wonder. Would things have been different today if you were still with me? ''(Flashback) The open sea of the Grand Line; the most treacherous waters in the world, 15 years before Jolly D. Chris set out to become a pirate, and 7 years after the execution of the Pirate King, Gol D. Roger. A pirate ship sails these seas, having experienced much turmoil and hardship. Aboard it is a decently large crew of pirates, minding their usual business. Albeit one of them, a young 5 year old boy no less, has been acting rowdy for quite a while today.'' ''Blonde 5 year old boy: Another fine day to be a pirate! Hahahahaha!'' The other sailors didn't seem to pay him much mind however, and allowed him to play around on their ship. ''Boy: And it's also a fine day, my brothers, to teach the world to fear the power of the Blonde Brawler, Spike! Soon to be one of the greatest pirates in the world!'' ''Street Punk (thoughts): I will say this though, pops. You're still a far better father than he ever was.'' 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